


Lather, Rinse, Repeat

by Skelesin (DeadGodBless)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anatomy, Body Worship, F/M, Light Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadGodBless/pseuds/Skelesin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans always takes such good care of you, you just want to return the favor. Getting him to let you dote on him proves to be a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lather, Rinse, Repeat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witchnsfw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchnsfw/gifts), [doodles-foodles (Forianna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forianna/gifts).



> Special thanks to my three anons, dinkywitch, and doodles-foodles for the request that spawned this fic! Thanks also to Kylee Henke for all the encouragement! If you have any requests for fics or you want to see all the garbage I post, feel free to check me out at www.illuminoodlesconfirmed.tumblr.com

You’re pretty sure the lamp is broken. It’s a shame, because that’s a really good lamp. It’s not too dim, not too bright. That lamp’s been there through every breakup, every comfort food movie marathon. It even survived the time you came downstairs thinking someone had broken in and ended up whacking Papyrus with it. You and that lamp have seen some shit together.  And now it’s all over.

 

“You alright?” You look above you, but it’s pretty pointless in the dark. All you can see of Sans is the pinprick of light in each eyesocket.

 

“I’m fine.” You reach up to trail your fingertips across his cheekbone, loving the way he shudders and sighs. “Couch broke my fall. We should have turned the lights on.”

 

He chuckles and you feel his breath ghost across your face.  “Now where would be the fun in that, hmm?” His fingers trail up your thighs, slipping under your skirt to tease you through your panties. You’re not sure you’ll ever be used to the sensation. His bones are hard and smooth against your soft flesh. You can’t help panting as he traces figure 8s over the thin cotton. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groans.

 

You trail your fingers down to his shoulder, wrapping them tight around his clavicle as his hand slips under the waistband of your panties and eases them down. You lift your hips to help him. He slips his fingers into your folds quickly. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” You tell him around a moan.

 

“You and me both.” He’s two fingers in, thrusting and crooking the distal phalanxes to tease at your g-spot. Your legs tremble, the air knocking out of your lungs. His free hand strokes down your thigh before coming up to rub and knead at the skin of stomach.

 

To say that Sans is attentive would be an understatement. Every moment you are together, every second passed with your bodies entwined, is about you. He worships you, whispers praises into the crook of your neck as your body arches into his touch. You couldn’t doubt his affection if you wanted to. He leaves no room for it. You feel as though you’ve been emptied and carefully refilled with his devotion.

 

You love him so fucking much you think it might kill you.

 

It doesn’t take much to bring you to orgasm. You whimper, clutching to him desperately.  “God you’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe you let me touch you like this. I’m so fucking lucky. Thank you.” His mouth presses to your jaw, over and over again, his thumb stroking ever so lightly over your clit. You’re dizzy with pleasure, short on breath. “Cum for me. Please, please, please.” Your body shudders, stars exploding behind your eyes. He eases you through it with patience.

 

You stare up at the ceiling as you come down, sighing softly. He always makes you feel so good. You don’t know what to do with yourself. His fingers withdraw gently and you reach for his hand, pulling it up to lick the phalanges clean and suck at them lightly. He moans, free hand tightening around your shirt. You’re really starting to get into it when he pulls his hand away. “Sans?”

 

“Come on, you must be tired. Let’s get you to bed.” You want to protest but you’re already in his arms. He carries you as though you weigh nothing, keeping you cradled comfortably against his chest.

 

He always gets like this, never really letting you reciprocate. He seems to enjoy it when you touch him, but finds ways to distract you or disengage before you can show him any real love. You mentioned it once but he just smiled at you. “You’ve got better things to do than worry about my old bones.” It breaks your heart, knowing how lowly he thinks of himself.

 

He lays you down gently in your bed, stroking at your hair. Moonlight seep through the window, illuminating a gentle smile on his bony face. You love him, you realize, as your heart pounds in your chest. You love him, and he doesn’t even realize it. He doesn’t even know. You pull him down into your arms, clinging to him as your eyes grow heavy. You have to find a way to show him. You won’t rest until you’re sure he knows.

 

* * *

 

The thought strikes you at the grocery store. You’re picking out a soap when your eyes fall on a bottle of bubble bath. You stand there, hand outstretched, for what feels like hours as you contemplate it. Finally you give in, grabbing the bubble bath and heading for checkout, a plan forming in your mind.

 

Sans refuses to let you dote on him, but what if he doesn’t think it’s about him? You’re sure that if you tell him it’s something you want to do, that it’s for your pleasure, he’ll give in. You’re certain that, if he thinks it’s all about you, he’ll play along.

 

Papyrus is watching Food Network when you get home. You’re not one to bother him with your business normally, but you need him out of the house for your plan to go smoothly. “Um…Pap?”

 

He grins and pats the couch next to him. “Human! You’ll never believe what is happening on this show! That chef has to cook with a bag on his head while riding a skateboard!”

 

You sit beside him and shake your head. How far will a station go to get viewers? You rub your hands over your knees nervously. “Listen, Pap, I need a favor.”

 

The tv is off in an instant and Papyrus turns to take your hands in his. “What is it, my dear friend? You know that I, the Great Papyrus, am more than willing to help you in any way that I can.”

 

You smile. He’s so fucking sweet. “I need you to stay somewhere else tonight. Do you have a friends’ house you can go to? Just for tonight?”

 

Papyrus clears his throat and a blush spreads over his cheekbones. “Ah, I see you uh…” he lets out a nervous chuckle. “You and my brother uh…”

 

You can’t believe you’re having this fucking conversation right now. You’d hide your face in your hands but he’s still holding them in his, the suede of his gloves soft against your palms. “I um,” your cheeks are burning. “I have a plan for tonight. I wanted to do something nice for Sans.”

 

“You’ll…” He looks you in the eyes, gaze intense. “You will take good care of my brother, won’t you?”

 

You nod. “Of course.”

 

“Good.” Papyrus suddenly launches himself off the couch, heading out the door. “I’m off to Undyne’s! Be responsible!”

 

Be responsible? That’s so like him. If he gets any cuter you might actually die. With that piece of business out of the way, you head upstairs to run a bath.  The tub is almost full by the time you hear the front door swing open again.  You shut off the water and run down the stairs. Sans peers up at you, apparently surprised to see you so excited.

 

You pull him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his teeth. He chuckles. “Man, you could barely wait for me to be in the door before you jumped my bones, huh?” You giggle and take his hand in yours, guiding him up the stairs. “Jeez, you really can’t keep your hands off me.”

 

“I want to do something special tonight.” You tell him, leading him to the bathroom. Nerves suddenly set in, and you’re afraid for the first time that maybe he won’t go along with this at all. Maybe he’ll turn you down and you’ll just end up looking like a fool. “It’s uh…It’s something I really want to try.”

 

Your hand is on the bathroom door when his presses to the small of your back. His touch is light and reassuring. “Hey, don’t get all nervous on me now. I’ll give you anything you want.”

 

You open the door and show him the tub filled up with hot water and bubbles. He gives you a smile like he’s trying to suppress a laugh. “What?” You ask him, apprehension starting to peak.

 

He cups your cheek, stroking the distal phalanx of his thumb over you bottom lip. “Is this what you were so worried about?” He leans in and presses his mouth to your forehead in a sweet kiss. He pulls your hips flush against his, speaking softly. “Having you soft and warm and wet in my hands is a real treat, you know.”

 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you know you’re blushing. He does chuckle now, fingertips slipping up under your shirt to tease at your skin. “S-Sans,”

 

His smile is hungry. “Do I get to unwrap my present now?” Your mouth is going dry, thoughts melting away at the way his hands curl around your hips and his pelvis lightly grinds against you. “You’re not going to make me wait, are you?”

 

“I- I wanted to…” you remind yourself to breathe. “I was hoping you’d let _me_ …”

 

Realization dawns on him and he grins. “Ah, I see. Well that’s alright. You know how much I love doing absolutely nothing.”

 

With his permission granted you set to work, starting with easing his coat off his shoulders. Your fingers brush his as you pull the sleeves off his arms and he shivers. “You’re uh…you’re starting with me then, huh?” His grin has shifted, confidence gone. Suddenly he looks just as nervous as you feel. Seeing the uncertainty in his expression fills you with determination, and you press a kiss to his teeth before sweeping your hands up under his shirt.

 

“I really wanna see you.” You whisper, voice breathy and light.

 

He swallows hard and you tell yourself not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to get caught up in questioning his anatomy and miss a moment of your time with him. “I-if you say so.”

 

You run your hands along his ribs, taking in every bump and divot. His hands clutch your shoulders and you look up to see his eyes seeming to half lid. You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it slowly over his head. Looking at him, well, he’s definitely not what you would have imagined for yourself when you were little and thinking of possible partners and weddings. But goddamn if he isn’t everything you want. You go for his shorts, pulling them down off his pelvis and watching as they fall to the floor.

 

He lets out an awkward chuckle. “Your turn…” You want him to feel more comfortable, and if this will help you don’t mind giving him a show. You strip slowly, shivering a bit as your skin is exposed to the cool air. His fingertips trail over your flesh as it’s revealed, his face an expression of bliss. “God, you’re so fucking soft.”

 

You smile and press a kiss to his cheekbone. He lets out a soft moan, blush spreading over his face. “Do you like it? When I kiss you?” You murmur softly against the bone.

 

“Who wouldn’t?” He does his best to keep his voice even. You smile and tug him towards the bathtub. There will be plenty of time to touch and explore, but the bath will only stay warm for so long. “Main event, eh?”

 

“No. This is just the overture.” You step carefully into the tub, turning and opening your arms to him as you stand in the water. It feels so good where it touches your skin, seeping heat deep down to the muscles. He gets in carefully and leans into you, pressing himself into the soft skin of your chest and stomach as you sink the two of you down into the water. You sigh at the soothing feeling of hot water lapping at you. “I have a lot more planned than this. If…if you’re comfortable with it?”

 

He presses his mouth to your neck, nuzzling at you. “How could I say no to you?” His teeth nibble lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you find yourself clawing at his spine with one hand as your other pushes on the back of his sacrum, grinding him down into you. You moan and it mingles with his, the sound vibrating through you where his mouth meets your skin. You lose yourself to the jerking of your hips and the delicious friction as you grind your clit against his pubis. He pants into your neck, fingers scratching over your back. There’s something about the way their smooth tips rake over you that drives you wild.

 

It’s a struggle to regain enough thought to disentangle. You’re breathing hard and fighting to keep yourself from just letting him have his way with you. That’s not what this is about. Tonight it’s all about him. “Sorry,” you pant. “I got a bit carried away there.”

 

His stunned smile turns into an easy grin. “Oh I certainly don’t mind,” he skims his index finger under your jaw to your chin, gently lifting you to examine the teeth marks you’re sure must be pressed into your neck. “I love watching you fall to pieces.”

 

“That’s not what I want to do right now.” You frown slightly, smoothing your hair back out of your face. You have to be better about this. No more getting carried away. This is about him. It’s all about him.

 

He shrugs and you can tell he’s doing his best to keep the easy smile on his face. He’s nervous again, a small bead of sweat forming at the crown of his skull. He lets you guide him back until his spine rests against the back wall of the tub. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

 

“I want you to be good,” you tell him. “just lay back and close your eyes,” He swallows hard but does as you ask, letting out a long exhale and sinking back into the water. You smile and reach out for his hand, massaging at the bones and spreading them. He lets out a low groan and seems to loosen up. You can’t help smiling. Good. You want him to enjoy this. You just want to make him feel good.

 

You grab for the sponge you’d bought and squirt a bit of liquid soap onto it. You rub it into a lather before moving to lightly brush it over his clavicle. He shivers a bit and his mouth falls open slightly. You love the way his breath rasps out between his teeth. You press on, touching him ever so slightly.  The smell of the soap fills the air. Between the clean smell, the heat, and the beads of sweat dripping down his skull you think you’ve reached paradise. You clean him slowly, methodically, swiping the sponge over every inch of him. He seems to lose track of everything except the light touches to his bones. You’d almost think he was asleep if not for the way he moans when you find a particularly good spot.

 

His eyes finally peek open when you lightly tug on his hand to pull him forward. He reaches out to take the sponge from you, but you shake your head. You’re not done yet. He seems confused until you maneuver your way behind him, gently rubbing the sponge over his spine. He freezes, trembles. You still for a moment. “Sans? Is this alright? Do you not like this?”

 

He makes an incoherent noise and you’re worried for a moment. You place a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb lightly over the bone, ready to ask again. His voice is gravelly when he speaks. “No, it’s good. It’s really good.”

 

“Yeah?” you lean forward and press your lips to his atlas and relish in the way he shudders and a string of drool trails down his chin. You can’t stop now, dropping the sponge into the water and instead letting your fingers trail over each vertebrae, keeping your touch light and teasing. He grips the side of the tub and pants as you sweep your fingertips across the curve of his spine. You’re enraptured, watching him come undone.  You’re so glad you’ve gotten this chance. You hope he can feel your love with every touch.

 

The water’s gone cold before you’ve had your fill, but you suppose that’s alright. If he’s willing, you have all night to show him how much you care. You pull the plug in the tub, listening to the water being sucked down the drain for a moment before clambering out of the tub to get a towel. You pull one off the rack for him, drinking in the way he comes back to his senses. He blinks and looks around him slowly before his eyes land on you, outside the water. His smile shrinks a bit. “You didn’t let me return the favor.”

 

“Oh that’s fine,” You beam to him. “You’ve got better things to do than worry about my old bones.” He doesn’t seem to appreciate his own joke being thrown back at him, but you don’t let yourself waver. You hold your arms open to him, towel stretched and ready to wrap around him. Slowly he climbs out and steps into reach. You sweep him up into your arms, trailing the towel over him and pressing kisses wherever you can reach.

 

You pull him out of the bathroom, deciding to leave the mess of clothes on the floor for later. You don’t want to break the mood long enough to clean. He follows you to your bedroom and your heart starts pounding in your chest. “Um, if it’s alright I was hoping…”

 

Your breath catches in your throat as he steps to you, pressing his mouth to your lips. His arms wrap around your waist, hands pressing against your back. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” He murmurs. “I want to lose myself in you for hours. I want to make you cum so bad.”

 

You take a deep breath, trying not to let yourself get swept in by his sweet praises. Tonight is about him. It’s all about him. Remembering the way he melted in the bath fills you with determination and you continue with your request. “I was really hoping you’d let me tie you up tonight?”

 

He pulls away from you, clearly stunned. The smile on his face is blank. You watch as sweat beads at the crown of his skull and slides down to drip off of his jaw. “Y-yeah?”

 

Worry sets in and you cup his cheeks in his hands. “If you’re not comfortable with it that’s okay! I don’t want you to feel pressured at all! If you don’t want to we can always do something else and it will be totally okay I promi-“ He cuts you off by pressing his mouth to yours again.

 

“Hey,” he looks nervous still and you kind of want to call the whole thing off. “I trust you. If I don’t like it we’ll just stop, right?”

 

“Absolutely.” You nod, taking his hands in yours. “If you don’t like it we’ll stop and I’ll never ask you again, I swear.”

 

He nods. “Yeah, alright. Whatever you want.”

 

“No,” you tell him, rubbing his hands with your thumbs. “I want it to be something you want too. If you don’t want to do this, I don’t want to.”

 

You seem to have taken him by surprise again. He blinks at you a few times before his smile softens. Emotion swells in you, taking your breath away. You love him more than you think you can bear. “I want to do this with you. I trust you.”

 

You nod and release his hands to find the supplies you’d set aside. You can hear him moving behind you and see his reflection in the mirror on your dresser as he climbs onto the bed and lays down. Your hands are shaking as you reach out and grasp the silk scarf you’d picked out. Ropes and cuffs and handcuffs just didn’t seem right for what you wanted. He was important, special. You didn’t want him to feel trapped. You just wanted him not to worry about you for a bit, to want pleasure for himself.

 

Your teeth press into your bottom lip as you gently slide the scarf between the ulna and radius of both his arms and guide them up towards the headboard. He’s sweating as he watching you tie the scarf into a knot around one of the poles on the headboard.  “Is this alright?” You look down into his eyes, unable to break your gaze away from the lights shining at you.

 

He nods slowly. “Yeah,” he shifts a bit and gives an experimental tug on the binding. He has a bit of slack. You don’t want to hurt him. “So uh, what exactly is the plan from here? It’d be kind of hard for me to pleasure you like this.”

 

You slide your hand down his sternum slowly, watching the way the lights in his eyes grow and shrink as he takes in a deep breath. “That’s alright. I’m not worried about me.”

 

He squirms, sweating again. “What do you mean?”

 

You press your lips to his collarbone, fingers teasing over his ribs. “You always take such good care of me, Sans. It’s your turn tonight.” You peek up to look at his eyes as you explore him with your hands. You count his ribs, 24 planes of bones for you to slide your hands over. You slip your hand inside his rib cage, giving the underside of each rib the same patient attention you paid to the outside. He trembles beneath you, wordless sounds leaking from him mouth.

 

“This…” he shakes his head as you withdraw your hand and plan your next path of exploration. “This is silly. You can’t be enjoying this.”

 

You smile down at him. “I am,” you wipe a bit of drool off his chin and smile. “and you seem to be too. Does it feel good when I touch you?” You trace your way up his right radius, gliding as it crosses over with his ulna and making your way back down. He’s twitching at each caress.

 

He doesn’t answer, even as your fingers work over his other arm. A blush spreads across his cheekbones. That never fails to captivate you, how a creature without blood pumping through his body can have his cheeks tint. There are so many things about him that are so different and interesting. You might have to start keeping a list so you can study him in earnest.

 

He’s still shuddering but he’s so so quiet, and that isn’t what you’re going for. “Uh oh. Maybe you’re not liking it as much as I thought. I’ll stop.”

 

“Don’t!” It leaves him in a breathless rush. When your eyes meet his he almost looks ashamed of his outburst. You hate that. You wish he would just be honest, with you and with himself. You wish he would enjoy himself without feeling badly about it. More than anything, you just want to make him feel good.

 

You slide your hand back in his rib cage again to run your fingers over the inside of his spine. His body arches off the bed and into your touch, a small whine escaping from the back of a throat he doesn’t have. “I love this,” you murmur to him. “I love getting to see you like this.”

 

If anything, his blush seems to deepen. “That’s,” he pants for breath, feet scrambling at the mattress. “wouldn’t you rather be,” he’s coming undone at the seams right before your eyes. “the one being touched?”

 

“And miss out on getting to see you like this?” You lean down and plant your lips on his sternum, speaking against the bone. “I’ve never seen anything as sexy as watching you lose control.”

 

He’s shaking beneath you, strung tight like a bow. He clenches his grin into place, making it look more like a grimace. You’re pretty sure he’s about to cum, so why does he seem so agonized by it? This just won’t do. You ease off him, stretching with an arch of your back. “Hey I’m gonna go grab a drink right quick. Be right back.”

 

You make yourself take deep breaths as you walk down the stairs. What are you doing? Playing around like this kind of seems mean. But what’s the point of letting him orgasm if he isn’t even going to enjoy it? You’ll give him a minute to calm down, then try again. As many times as it takes. Lather, rinse, repeat.  You bring a glass of water up with you when you return to the bedroom.  Sans is staring up at the scarf as though the lights of his eyes could burn a hole in it. You hope they can’t. It was an expensive scarf.  “Hey, I brought you a drink if you want it.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” His voice cracks and his brow furrows in response. It’s cute, but you don’t want to tease him about it. The last thing you want is for him to become even more self-conscious. You’re careful as you lift his head and help him drink. You can’t help marveling at how the liquid disappears as soon as it’s in his mouth. You’d seen him drink a shake once and let it all fall through his bones onto the ground, but he’d laughed and told you it was for comedic effect. Now the water just disappears, as though it’s already evaporated into the air. You trace the curve of bones that would be housed in his throat if he had one. His breath catches, eyes locking on to you.

 

“You alright?” You ask him, stroking lightly at his cheekbone. He lets out a shaky exhale and you press on. “If you don’t like this I can untie you.”

 

“It’s fine,” he smiles but it’s not your favorite one, where his whole face lights up and you feel like you might die from how hard your heart pounds.  This smile is still awkward, still slightly uncomfortable. You move to undo the knot. He’s been so sweet, humoring you, but it’s clear he’s just not into this. “Stop that.”

 

You blink down at him, surprised. “But you…you don’t seem happy and I…I don’t want to do something that doesn’t make you happy, Sans.”

 

That blush is back, leaving him looking so adorable you could eat him up. “I was feeling pretty happy a few minutes ago.”

 

You grin, hands sliding down to his chest as you press yourself close and kiss at the underside of his jaw. “Yeah? Think I can get you feeling happy again?”

 

He groans as you lick at his jaw, scraping your teeth lightly over the bone. Your hand trails lower, stroking lightly over his pelvis. You start at the ilium and make your way down, slipping your fingers into the holes of the ischium and swirling them around. He shakes, hands clutching at the scarf that binds him. He bucks against your hand once, twice, before slamming his pelvis down against the bed and scrunching his face.  He’s close and yet, once again, he’s not letting himself enjoy it. You pull yourself away and turn so your feet are on the floor, calmly taking a sip of the water. He makes a sputtering sound but doesn’t do anything further, instead just watching you intently.

 

“Hmm. This is fun, isn’t it?” You ask, trying to keep down a smirk. He’s gotta break sometime, and you’re ready for it. You’re determined to have him moaning, begging putty in your hands.

 

He flashes you a tense smile, sweat beading down from his skull again. “S-sure. Fun.”

 

He knows you’ve got him right where you want him now. This was no innocent accident. The first time, maybe. But now, he knows. He squirms a bit as you watch him. You wonder how much your face betrays. “You sound a little tense.”

 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just fine. No need to worry about me.”

 

You set the glass down and stretch again, taking time to let him cool down a bit. Lather, rinse, repeat. You can feel Sans’ eyes on your back as your attention is turned from him. You want him to whine or protest or beg you to turn around and make him cum. Instead he’s quiet, suffering in silence.

 

You touch him, tease him, bring him to the edge time and time again. Still he does his best to keep calm and collected. You lose count at six edges, frustrated that it’s even gotten this far. Every time he starts to enjoy himself he closes himself off. You’re debating just giving up and calling the whole thing a wash, but the thought really upsets you. You love him, more than you can find the words for. You want him to feel good, to realize that he _deserves_ to feel good. After everything he’s done for you, all the kindness he’s shown and love he’s showered you in, you can’t bear the thought of him not knowing you feel it too.

 

Your mouth is on his pubis, sucking and licking at the little protrusion of bone, when he finally crumbles. You start to move away, just a bit, when his voice finally escapes his clenched teeth. “Please, please, please don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. Please.”

 

You hum against him, eyes flicking up to meet his. His phalanges are clenching and unclenching as he tosses his skull from side to side. He’s breathing hard, little whimpers sounding out to you as his gaze meets yours. You lick up from his pubis across the ilium, eyes fixed on him. “No?”

 

“Please!” His voice breaks, bones shaking. You can’t help grinning as you finger the holes on his ischium again while continuing to lick and suck the bones of his pelvis. You can feel your own arousal building, but you ignore it for now. Instead you focus on the way his jaw goes slack and his pelvis strains against your arms where they’ve pinned in. You focus on the cry that tears from him and the sound of the bars on the headboard rattling as he strains. You lose yourself in the way he cums, wanting to memorize every sight and sound before it’s gone. And then you find yourself wondering why it should be gone so quickly? After all, you made him work for it. He’s earned it, hasn’t he?

 

You draw yourself up to straddle him, grinding yourself against his pelvis as you slip your hands inside his rib cage to play with his spine again. The lights of his eyes fill up nearly the entire sockets, sweat pouring from him and onto the sheets. Drool oozes out from his slack jaw as you time your grinds with the touches of your fingertips to the vertebrae of his spine. A litany of unintelligible babbles start pouring out of him, punctuated by nervous “wait! Wait! Wait!”s. All of the stops and nos die off within the first sounds, as though he’s afraid you really will stop if he says them. You can’t help grinning as he writhes and squirms beneath you. There’s a sort of magic to seeing him finally lose his composure like this.

 

He bucks against you as you grind, the added friction feeling so incredible you can barely stand it. You’d swear you can hear a fizzle and a pop as your thoughts die out and you’re left with only with the need to take this as far as you can. He’s still babbling and stammering and you find yourself leaning down to press kisses to his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. Your own release is at hand, every press of your flesh to his hard, smooth bone bringing you closer and closer.

 

The words pouring from him are starting to make little bits of sense. “…so good, you feel so fucking good. Can’t believe you’re touching me. Can’t believe I’m so lucky. You feel so fucking good.”

 

“I love you!” You gasp, nails scratching at the inside of his spine. “I love you so fucking much, I think it might kill me!” Your orgasm hits you like a brick wall, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you clutching to Sans for dear life. He arches up into you, pressing his ribs against your chest. You can barely breathe, barely register anything besides your two bodies pressed together. You concentrate on unclenching your fingers to release their death grip on him, sliding your hands over the inside of his ribs. There’s something soothing about the texture on your hands. It helps ground you and bring you back to reality.

 

When the fog over you mind clears, you hear him. “S-stop. Too much.” His voice is a soft whine. You pull your hands away from him, instead reaching up to free his hands. It’s a bit difficult at first, your fingers fumbling with the knot clumsily. It’s pulled a bit tighter from his tugging and writhing. Finally you get it undone and pull the silk free of his bones, letting it drift to the floor beside the bed. You roll over to curl up next to him, still feeling the effects of the afterglow.

 

He lays beside you, fingers searching yours out and twining with them. You turn your head lazily to gaze at him. His smile is all goofy, like his mouth is going off of memory but too exhausted to commit.  You reach out and wipe some drool away from his mouth, unable to help smiling yourself. He nuzzles into your touch, pressing his cheek into your hand. His normally cool bones are warm, a blush still spread over his cheekbones.

 

“That sure was something.” He sighs. His eyes have dimmed now, back to the tiny points of light floating in pools of darkness.

 

You turn over on your side, pulling him close. “Was it alright? Did you like it? If you didn’t like it I’ll never-“

 

He cuts you off, kissing you softly. He keeps it short and sweet, head falling back against the pillow quickly. He’s obviously exhausted, barely moving at all. “I’ve never felt so incredible in my life.”

 

Relief floods through you and you can’t help smiling, leaning in to pepper little kisses to his forehead and around his eyesockets. “Good. I’m so happy.”

 

“You planning to tell me what that was all about? Didn’t take you for the power dynamic type.” His voice is getting softer and softer, like he’s on the verge of falling asleep at any minute. Come to think of it, you’re feeling pretty wiped out yourself.

 

“You always take such good care of me. I always fall asleep knowing how much you love me. I couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing the same.” You murmur.

 

You see something flash in him, some emotion he buries deep down. You let it go. When he’s ready, he’ll show you that side of him. For now, it’s just enough knowing that he understands. You use your feet to pull the sheets up toward you, pulling them up to cover you both. There’ll be time to talk in the morning, when your thoughts can realign and words make sense again.

 

Sans presses a kiss to the top of your head. His voice is so quiet that you almost miss it when he says “I won’t forget. No matter what.” You smile at such a sweet promise. Even if he does, you suppose, he’ll always have you here to remind him. Lather, rinse, repeat.


End file.
